Unexpected
by Riverflame
Summary: Simon/Will. The gang gets together for Christmas, and Simon is noticing some strange things.


Unexpected

PG for boys kissing

Christmas!

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They had gotten the call, just this past week, that they were going to have a get-together this Christmastide. Will's Aunt Jan (well, not his real aunt) had seen how well the five of them had gotten on, and how much fun they had last summer. So she was going to host a little reunion, to have their dear friends the Stantons over, and invite the Drews and their three children to come by around Christmas, and they would be sure to have Bran and his father over as well. It would be so much fun, Jen told Mrs. Drew, for the children to see each other again. I'm sure they'll have a wonderful time together. And for Christmas as well!

So Mrs. Drew made an announcement to the family, asking the children what they thought about Mrs. Evans' proposal.

"I think we should go," said Jane to her brothers.

"Why? It isn't as if we knew them so well." Simon was not so interested by this prospect. Will and Bran had seemed so distant and cold at first… and he still didn't understand them.

"But it was so grand this summer! Remember all of those things we did?" Enthusiasm lit up Barney's face.

"Sightseeing. Any sort of tourist attraction." Barney glared at his brother.

"Well, I think we should anyway. I should like to see Will and Bran again," Jane interjected, trying to make a sort of peace between the two. They had gotten to being more quarrelsome recently, it was a bit uncomfortable for her being the middle child.

"And it would be so fun, going back to Wales!" He was eager to return to those grand mountains and such, him with his fixation with King Arthur, it was obvious enough.

"You just like it because of all the King Arthur legends, Barney."

"That's not true! I do want to see the others again."

"Please, Simon? For old time's sake?" Jane looked at him pleadingly, and it was difficult to resist.

"Yes, at least just for a day or so?" No, it wouldn't be so bad, kind of fun actually.

"Oh… all right, I suppose," he said as he finally caved under their persuasive words. It hadn't taken much.

"It's settled, then," their father said. "I think it will be good to get out. You three have become argumentative, cooped up here alone. You need to be around some other people for a change."

"We'll stay at that old hotel we did last summer; what was it called again?" Their mother turned to converse with their father, and the three dissipated, going back to what they had been doing before the phone rang.

For the next week, the atmosphere was thick with excitement and anticipation.

-

"Hello, come in, come in! So nice to see you, I hope you've had a nice journey."

"The journey was very pleasant, thank you."

"Thank you very much for inviting us, Mrs. Evans."

"Nonsense, Jane, it's always a pleasure to have guests, especially during the holiday season. We do get lonely out here sometimes."

"I'm Rhys, it's nice to meet you. She's right, holidays can be lonesome, all deserted out here on the farm, covered in snow. The more the merrier, right, Mum?"

"Indeed it is. Now, Rhys, if you'll just take our guests' coats, and you five can make yourselves right at home. David, where are you?"

"Right here, _cariad_."

"These are Mr. and Mrs. Drew and their children, I told you they were coming. They're here for a little get-together with Will and Bran, you do remember the fun they had last summer?"

"Of course, of course. Pleasure to see you three again, and a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Drew, Mr. Drew," he said, shaking their hands in turn.

"The boys are already here, they'll be outside in the snow playing." Mrs. Evans shook her head and clicked her tongue reprovingly, but she had a smile on her face. "I'll fetch them in; they should be right soaked through by now."

"Hallo, hallo," cried Barney, bounding up like an eager puppy to the two of them as soon as they appeared.

"It feels like it's been such a long time, I know it hasn't, but it's good to see you again!"

"Hallo yourself, Barney!" Will clapped the younger boy on the shoulder and grinned. Bran gave a warm smile, still removing his sopping gloves.

"Hello, Jenny," the pale boy said as he pulled the last few fingers out. "I don't suppose you still have that little glass pebble, from last summer?"

"No," she said, "I'm afraid I lost it." He shrugged.

Simon stood behind his siblings, the one who did not really want to be here in the first place, but who had graciously given in to the others. He noticed that Will had grown taller, and was nearly level with him; Bran had grown as well but was still shorter. Jane was suddenly acting rather shy, which wasn't entirely normal for her. He looked, and saw that Bran was rather pink in the face, hiding his flush as he appeared to be rather busy with his snow gear. It was becoming on him, Simon thought suddenly, and jerked himself free of that thought. But Jane saw, Jane looked at the boy, shy little glances from under her eyelashes when she thought he wasn't looking. Still, Simon saw her.

He also saw, when he turned away to avoid seeing anything else, that Barney had begun chatting animatedly to Will about, "Do you remember this," and "Do you remember that?" Will looked interested and engaged in the reminiscing, but when Jane let out a quiet but rather high pitched laugh, he looked over to the two of them, eyes gleaming strangely. It was only for a split second, but it was there.

And then Bran had escaped the awkward situation with Jane to greet Simon, holding his hand out. Simon grasped it and shook firmly.

"So the English are invading again! Come back for our superior company, I expect?" They smiled at the old enmity, long since left and now no more than a joke between friends.

"Actually, the only reason I came was because I heard Will was going to be here. There's no company like a fellow Englishman, isn't that right, Will?"

"To be fair, there's no company like the Welsh, either."

All five of them laughed.

-

Inside, the house was decorated splendidly for Christmas. They had a tree up, with all manner of lights and ribbons, and little wooden ornaments, some of which looked hand-made. There were assorted presents under the tree, waiting until Christmas morning to be opened, brightly wrapped with bows and ribbons. It seemed rather small, with all the visitors, but it was cozy, with candles lit at the windows and sprigs of evergreen and holly at the doors and windows. It was warm and cheery as the darkness grew, night coming early as it does in wintertime, but not as early as it used to since winter solstice.

They sat around, drinking cocoa, making conversation, it being too dark to go outside. Mostly it was reminiscing, there was a bit of catching up to do, and Simon did not partake much. He felt… not left out, exactly, nor ignored, for they made a point of asking him questions, but just out of place. Uncomfortable. And the glances he was noticing didn't make things any better. Jane to Bran, Will to the two of them, and poor Barney, who didn't understand much of what was happening now, raised his eyebrows and shared a suspicious look with Simon.

And Will, Will really looked everywhere, seeking things out, gathering bits and pieces of conversations and expressions around him. Simon could swear Will caught his eye once or twice, whether on purpose or by accident, and in a fleeting glimpse he thought he even saw a wink. But it was getting later, Simon was getting sleepier, and the hazy glow and flickering of the candles could make you see funny things that never really happened.

Will looked at Bran too, strange looks, looks Simon didn't really understand like the first one. When Bran and Jane were laughing, when they were deep in their own conversation. Maybe it was jealousy. How's that, Simon, your little sister's got two boys mooning after her? Simon felt suddenly rather protective.

But Bran didn't look hardly anywhere, didn't give away hardly anything; it was mostly Jane talking to him, it was Jane giggling, and a lot of what Bran made was mere polite conversation. Who knew what was going on behind those golden owl-eyes? Maybe even Will couldn't tell.

Time passed, hours, minutes, Simon couldn't tell. Not without a watch, and not while it still got dark so early. The cocoa seemed to have a narcotic effect on him, making his eyelids heavy and vision slightly blurry. Suddenly, just as conversation was dying down, Mrs. Evans called from the other room where the adults were having their own tea and conversation, "Children, are you still awake?"

"Just barely," said Barney, who as the youngest was having the hardest time of keeping his eyes open.

"It's awfully late, isn't it, Mrs. Evans?" Jane rubbed her eyes and yawned.

"I should think so, it's been hours since the sun set."

"Actually, now that you mention it, it's only eight o' clock. The sun sets so early these days; winter muddles your head. But you all have had a long day, what with traveling, it'll exhaust you and that's a fact. What I was thinking of, though, is that perhaps you'd like to go outside and make snowmen or something of the sort? I see you've all brought your warm clothing, and now that the sun isn't out you'll be much drier. What do you say to that?"

"Sounds wonderful!" Barney leapt at the chance to do something interesting, instead of sitting around and chatting for so long. He was beginning to be bored. The others agreed as well, it sounded like fun, wasn't it beautiful snow?

Nearly all of them had gotten their gear on when Simon couldn't find his boot. He had sworn it was there, just a second ago, and then he looked away for an instant to grab his scarf and the boot was gone.

"Don't worry, Aunt Jen, I'll help him find it. You go outside with the others, we'll be fine." Will grinned at him, saying, "I'm sure I know this house top to bottom by now, I've searched it so many times. Easy to lose things here, it is." Simon nodded and smiled, not really caring for the snow and cold outside anyway.

After a minute or so, Simon heard the other boy call "I found it!" He followed the sound of the voice to the back door, where Will stood, holding his missing boot. "Here you go, Simon," he said as he handed it over. Simon reached out to take it. When he stepped closer, he saw a sprig of green at the top of the door frame, and some sort of foreboding twisted in him.

"Look, Will." He pointed to it, and the other boy's eyes followed.

"Mistletoe," Will said innocently, but then Simon felt his lips being pressed against something warm and wasn't so sure anymore.

-

He kissed him, under the mistletoe, but it was not what Simon was sure a mistletoe kiss would be like. Mistletoe and Christmastide were supposed gentle and happy, but this was needing, this had pain and want in it, and so Simon was shocked and could not draw away. The intensity was astonishing; of all the people to kiss him, why secretive, mild-mannered Will? And this was so completely unlike him.

The thought began as a strange little idea, but was so much more reasonable that Simon was forced to admit that it was probably true. He suspected that Will would rather be kissing someone else, mistletoe or no mistletoe.

And Simon himself didn't know how he felt about this. He understood what he thought, but when it came to preference - do you enjoy this or not? - he just couldn't answer. He had no idea what to do, no idea what he could say. Why him? Why Simon, of all the people Will could kiss, why strange stolid Simon who wanted to be a doctor and didn't believe in the fairy tales the others liked so much? Why not Barney, or Bran, or even Jane?

Well, for one, Jane was a girl, and that was enough reason to count her out. Will didn't fancy girls, Simon was sure enough about that now, with Will's lips pressed fervently against his. And Barney was so young. So, it was Simon, because Will could somehow tell that Simon was ambiguous that way, and he knew how to play upon that. Simon didn't know what he wanted; he knew so little, he had practically no idea what he did want, and so that left him wide open.

But what about Bran? Why not him, and Simon instead?

And it dawned on him, as he stood there, being pressed against the door jamb by Will who still had his lips firmly attached to Simon's own, and Simon was kissing back too - the only reason Will was not kissing Bran, instead of a confused and calculating Simon, was because kissing Bran would be dangerous.

Bran was dangerous because he could hurt Will; Simon could hardly do that. He didn't have the words or the means, he didn't have the power to hurt the other boy because Will was impenetrable. The only way anyone could hurt him was if he opened up to them… if he loved them. He should have seen it before. It was so obvious.

Fear of rejection is the worst fear of all when one person loves another unrequitedly. Simon was at least experienced enough to know that. Bran was unreadable, he and his owl-eyes and colorless skin. He was proud, he was practiced, he was aloof so much of the time. Will _knew_ people, just by looking at them, it seemed - everyone except Bran. Simon had the feeling that Will still wouldn't fully know the boy if he followed him around, asking him all the questions in the world, and Bran answered. But Simon was one of those other people, that Will could read like an open book. All his confusion, his indecision, his apathy - laid out like some sort of instruction guide to Getting What You Want From Simon Drew.

Is this what it is, then? Is this what you've come to, after so long pining after him? I can tell, it's been long because you are still needing, still hungry. You want me to keep kissing you, is that it? You just want to forget it's me, and pretend that I'm Bran? Who will I pretend to be, then? Should I keep kissing you, Will? Is almost but not quite getting what you want any good for you, and is this any good for me?

What do I want?

Why am I still here?

Simon didn't care anymore. He certainly didn't mind Will, but he didn't know if he could enjoy it, knowing that he was only a substitute. When Will looked away finally, mumbling an apology, strode off outside with the others, what would he do now? Would he forget it ever happened, unless of course it happened again? Would he confront Will?

Would he go back to him again, just to try and figure out if he liked boys or not?

Or would he return for Will, let him kiss him again, kiss him back, try as hard has he can to be Bran, just so Will wouldn't stop?

Simon Drew stood under the sprig of mistletoe that was fastened to the top of the doorway, alone with his thoughts and the lingering scent of the other boy, and irrationally wished that the meddling, irritating plant had never been put there at all. That they had never come to Wales again, that they had never even received that phone call in the first place. Things might be a lot easier that way.


End file.
